What Are Friends For?
by figleaf
Summary: Anthony and Ian go to LA to pitch a movie but they have no script and the big shot Hollywood execs want one in 2 days! They decide to lock themselves in a hotel room until it's done with no distractions! Will the two crazy caffeinated hyped YouTubers survive long enough to make a decent script, or with they end up driving each other insane? Bromantic sexual tension but no pairing


**»Warnings: Language, violence, bromantic Ianthitic sexual tension but no actual pairing.**

* * *

"Anthony! Anthony!"

Anthony rushed out of his room, following the voice calling him from his friend's room.

"What is it, Ian? Did you finally give up on your quest to find a girlfriend?"

Ian glared at him.

"No," Ian answered bitterly, then resumed his hyped mood from before. "I have the most awesome news ever."

"What, dude?" Now he really had Anthony's attention.

"I just got a call back from that guy we met in Los Angeles a few months ago."

"Yeah, and...?"

"Well, they talked to some of the big guys over at Paramount, just pitching some ideas around and- dude, you ready for this?- they said they were interested in making a Smosh movie!"

"What?!" Anthony exclaimed in disbelief. "Are you fucking serious dude?!"

"Yeah! They said they really like our videos and they want us to come up with a script within the next few months so they can go over it and once they approve it, then they can start shooting as early as next summer! Isn't that the most awesome news ever?!"

"Oh my God, dude! That's incredible!" Anthony cheered.

"I'm so stoked, man! Can you imagine our own movie?" Ian excitedly beamed.

Anthony was beaming along with Ian but then his grin suddenly faded away.

"Uh, Ian? How are we gonna come up with a script for an entire feature length movie?"

Ian scoffed at him with a light laugh.

"Dude. It'll be easy! I could write a whole script in my sleep!" he joked.

Anthony was still doubtful.

"I dunno, Ian. It's not gonna be like writing one of our regular scripts. Plus unlike our videos it has to be good!" he teased.

Ian laughed. "Piece of cake," he grinned smugly.

* * *

Anthony walked by Ian's bedroom but stopped midway. Ian was sitting in his chair staring intensely at his computer screen, reminding him of a certain internet meme. Anthony walked in and chuckled slightly. "Not as easy as you thought, huh?"

Ian snapped out of his blank stare.

"Shut up, dude. I totally got this."

Anthony walked over and sat on the bed, contemplating.

"Maybe we should brainstorm some ideas first."

"That's what I've been doing this whole time," Ian replied.

"Alright, cool. Let's see whatcha got."

Anthony got up and looked over his shoulder, peering at the screen.

"Uh, there's nothing on there, dude."

"That's because it's all up _here_," Ian defensively replied, pointing to his head.

"Well we need all the ideas in _here_..." Anthony pointed to Ian's head then moved his finger dramatically to the screen, "…and get them all in _here_."

Ian rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"Uh, yeah. I know that, dude. Why don't you just shut up and help me then."

"Okay, sure." Anthony sat back down.

They sat in silence for a minute.

"Well?"

"What?"

"What do you have so far?" Ian asked.

"Oh, I have a few ideas up my sleeve," Anthony grinned, shooting up from the bed. "So what if we do one of our _if blank were real_ things?"

Ian thought about it then shook his head.

"Do you know how much of a nightmare it would be to do a whole movie referencing a ton of copyrighted stuff? We'd have to get consent from so many companies. And they'd have to approve of whether it doesn't tarnish their image. It's not like on YouTube where we can do whatever we want."

Anthony nodded his head in agreement and slumped down with a sigh.

"I guess you're right. Okay… how about…" He trailed off. "Dammit, never mind. Okay we need something new and refreshing."

"Yeah… like Boxman, or That Damn Neighbor." Ian looked at the Smosh video idea board.

"All of the video ideas we have on the board so far aren't that original," he said as he saw the list of movie and internet parodies on the whiteboard.

They sat in the room trying to come up with ideas for another ten minutes until Anthony finally got tired of grasping at air.

"Can't we just do this later? I gotta edit Lunchtime anyways," Anthony sighed getting up.

"Yeah, I have to work on our next video script anyway," Ian agreed, closing out of the blank document.

* * *

Several weeks passed and the idea of writing a movie script was quietly brushed under the rug as Smosh continued to focus more on their YouTube videos. Anthony had almost forgotten about it until he received an unexpected phone call during private video rehearsal in their home.

Anthony set the script down on the table and answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Anthony? Anthony Padilla of Smosh right?"

"Yeah? Who's this?"

"This is Greg Turner over at Paramount Pictures. We were going over ideas for films and you and Mr. Hecox's names came up several times during meetings."

Anthony listened more intently, adding an "Oh?" of acknowledgement.

"We talked to Mr. Hecox about it already and he said you would have a draft ready for us this week."

"Th-this week?" Anthony gulped, looking over at Ian on the other sofa. Ian raised his eyebrows in surprise and started furiously shaking his head back and forth, mouthing _no_ and waving his hands in front of him.

"O-oh, are you sure you want a script _this week_?" Anthony asked, now clutching his phone with both hands in worry and turning from Ian.

"Yes, Mr. Padilla! We can have you bring it on Thursday and we'll go over all the details then. I must say though, our executives are really looking forward to seeing what you have. We love your videos!"

Anthony panicked and looked over at Ian again with his mouth hanging open, having no idea what to say. Ian started mouthing _Ask for more time_!

"Um-uh, d-do you think we could have a little more-"

"Oh, pardon me just a moment," he interrupted. Anthony heard him speaking to someone else briefly with a muffled voice. Probably his secretary, Anthony presumed.

"I'm terribly sorry about that, but I have a really big name client coming in right now. Anyway, we'll meet with the script at noon. I'll get my secretary to arrange the flight, hotel and transportation. Again, we're really happy to have this opportunity to work with you. We get so many scripts in every day it's become increasingly difficult to find time to meet potential clientele. You two are pretty lucky to even get a call back, much less have a meeting arranged like this. Mr. Padilla, we hope to see you and Mr. Hecox very soon!"

"Uh, thanks," Anthony mumbled. He heard the phone click.

Ian looked at him expectantly.

"Well? What did he say?"

Anthony finally pulled the phone down after realizing he still had it to his ear and turned to him.

"Um… We need a script by Thursday at noon."

"Anthony," Ian slowly said. "That's the day after tomorrow. I told you we needed to ask for an extension!"

Anthony stood with his mouth open unable to form his next sentence. Ian had his hands out in front of him in a gesture that screamed _What'll we do?!_ Then his message alert came on. Anthony tore his gaze from Ian and looked at his iPhone.

"They're asking if we want to leave for Los Angeles tonight so they can arrange the flight," Anthony said reading the message. "Ian, what are we gonna do?"

Anthony was still distressed, Ian could tell. Ian suddenly smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder and had him sit on the couch.

"Dude, don't worry. I have an idea."

Anthony looked up. "You do?"

"Don't act so surprised." Ian sat next to him and grinned, his hand still on his shoulder.

"Why don't we go tonight and write the script at the hotel?"

"_What?!"_ Anthony asked, clearly confused. "That's crazy! We should just forget the whole thing."

"And give up on our dream of one day making it in Hollywood? Anthony, have you gone insane?! We could be big name actors! We'll have our names on the Walk of Fame! Have dinner with Angelina Jolie and ask her when the next Tomb Raider's coming out!"

Anthony thought about it. Living in an upscale house, going to parties and super exclusive clubs all the while still writing and shooting but for much more money. It was a life he never realized he wanted, or at least most people wanted.

"Alright, so we go to the hotel, and stay up for a day and a half writing this script?"

"Yep. We'll pick up a ton of energy drinks and Mt. Dew and lock ourselves in the room to write it. No distractions. We turn off our phones and just sit there and write. We'll have it done in no time."

"Ian, I can't turn off my phone for two days! How are we supposed to get stuff done for the site and how are the Paramount guys gonna call us?" Anthony argued back, beginning to doubt this crazy half-brained scheme of Ian's. Ian stroked his beard in thought then smiled widely in what could only be presumed as having an idea.

"Okay, so here's the plan. Check it out," Ian began going into military sergeant mode. "We give the execs our room number so only they can call us, right? Then we get some of the crew from the site to update our crap on YouTube and Twitter or whatever so we don't have to. After that we'll move filming to the weekend so it doesn't interrupt our schedule and then everything'll be perfectly fine. No one loses, and everyone's happy. We have our script!"

Anthony was actually surprised. "Wow, that…that's actually a well thought-out plausible plan."

Ian grinned smugly and crossed his arms. "I'm tellin' ya, bro. We got this whole movie thing down."

"I sure hope so," Anthony worried.

* * *

Anthony and Ian checked into the hotel and were unpacking their suitcases. Ian looked over and saw his friend with that same apprehensive look on his face and it was really starting to bug him.

"Dude, chill out. We get shit done all the time on deadlines. Remember that time we didn't even _have_ a script the day we were gonna shoot and we just improvised? That video came out awesome in the end! We actually have the whole day to do it this time."

"I know," Anthony sighed. He couldn't think of any more ways to express his doubt anyway.

_I mean, we're already here so we might as well do this._

Ian smiled and walked over to him, nudging him. "Anthony. We're gonna do fine, man. Come on. It's just one day locked in a room with me-your favorite best friend- and a keg's worth of Mt. Dew."

Ian always knew how to get a smile on Anthony's face.

"You and me locked in a hotel room? I think they'll find me in the tub tomorrow with my liver missing, surrounded by ice."

Ian shrugged. "What can I say? I'm probably the most fast and affordable surgeon you'll ever meet!"

Anthony grinned and plopped down on the bed.

"Alright, let the 36 hour writing session begin!"

* * *

At 3am three full hours had passed since they arrived at the hotel. Anthony sat cross legged on top of the bed with Ian's computer in front of him. Ian was pacing around the room nervously sipping the energy drink clutched in his hand after every fourth step. Anthony almost swore he was sweating.

"Okay. So then we run out of the house and my mom's there in front of the car with… a giant fucking wrench!"

Anthony looked at him skeptically. "_A giant wrench_?" He asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Ooor maybe she's just standing there without a giant wrench. Heh."

"Ian I think we should take a break. I'm fucking starving and we haven't eaten real food since we left Sacramento."

Ian had to agree when he felt his stomach growl angrily from only consuming Mt. Dew and Red Bull.

"Alright. Should we get room service or something? All we really packed food-wise was a bunch of chips and crap."

Anthony looked over at the counter and picked up the menu placed neatly by the phone.

"Hey look. Cheap-ass Italian food," he said scanning the menu. Ian hopped next to him on the bed, making them both bounce a bit.

"Ooooh! I wanna get a cannoli!" Ian chirped.

"Dude, we're getting real food, not junk."

"I can get whatever I damn well please Anthony! I'm a grown ass man!"

"Fiiine," Anthony rolled his eyes with a smile. "You can get the cannoli."

Ian jumped up and down on the bed, almost knocking Anthony off and clapped his hands. "Yaaaay! I love you daddy!" He squealed in his _Billy_ voice, hugging Anthony from behind and then jumping again.

"Okay seriously dude, you should really cut back on the energy drinks. How many have you had?"

Ian sat next to him and started counting on his fingers. "Well," be sang, fluttering his eyelashes, "I only had two Red Bulls."

"Mh? That's not too bad."

"Aaaand about three Mountain Dews."

"Fuck, dude!"

"What?! That's not _that_ bad! We'll get more work done with more energy! You should drink another! You're only on your first one! Here lemme go and get you one! What d'ya want? Red Bull? The Dew? I have the Doctor! Or do you-"

"You're going a mile a minute, man! Slow the fuck down!" Anthony watched as Ian hopped off the bed to the mini fridge and pulled out three different cans.

"Cool! They have a mini bar! Check it out! Macadamia nuts!" Ian opened the package and started eating them.

"Ffff- Ian!" Anthony suppressed his curse, thinking about how much that bag cost and turned back to the menu.

"I'm gonna get us spaghetti," he said picking up the phone and dialing.

"And don't forget my cannoli!" Ian yelled back with a mouth full of macadamia nuts.

"Okay, geeze!"

* * *

Another hour had passed. Empty food trays and bags of opened chips and cans littered the floor with Ian sitting right next to Anthony on the bed looking blankly at the screen in front of them.

"I-Ian…?" Anthony asked cautiously.

Ian didn't respond. Anthony wondered if he was even breathing, but his eyes were wide open, transfixed on the screen.

"You're trembling."

"S-shut-up. No I'm not," he aggressively denied. He wrapped himself tighter in the blanket and Anthony thought he looked like a poor, pitiful orphan from the streets.

"Yeah, you are dude. I can feel the vibrations through the bed. You're all jittery." Anthony wasn't sure if he should be worried or not.

Suddenly Ian firmly clutched his arm before he could even blink. It wasn't hard, but the sudden skin on skin contact startled Anthony.

"Um…"

Anthony didn't know what to say. The look on Ian's face was deadly serious as he stared into the crystal blue irises.

After ten wordless seconds Ian finally let go and Anthony felt a sudden loss of heat.

"See?"

Anthony was confused and still rattled.

"See what?"

"I'm not the one that's shaking, you are."

Ian was right.

"Th-that's only because you…!" He narrowed his eyes and huffed. "Let's just keep typing."

* * *

7am came and went. Anthony was very irritated as he continued typing. He turned bitterly to the body of a snoring Ian, passed out next to him covered in bed sheets and surrounded by pillows. Being the somewhat good guy he was he let Ian sleep for two hours but now he really needed his opinion on the script.

"Ian," he whispered shaking him softly. "Ian!"

Ian mumbled something incoherent and turned over.

"Wake up."

"Anth…" he mumbled, squeezing one of the pillows to his chest tightly.

"Wake up, Ian!"

Ian suddenly shot up and Anthony fell back onto the bed.

"Dude! What the fuck is wr-"

"PEE!" Ian cried out and clamored to the edge of the bed, stumbling onto the floor. He darted to the bathroom yelling "I really gotta piss RIGHT NOW!" He didn't even bother closing the door and Anthony heard the stream pouring into the toilet.

"Ahhh…" he heard Ian sigh contently.

"Dude, I really need you to look at this script so far," Anthony yelled over the sounds of Ian urinating. "I don't know where to go from here."

"'Kay," he heard from the open door along with the sound of flushing and running water.

"You better come out here and help me, and you can't go back to sleep! We said we weren't gonna sleep!"

Ian stepped out of the bathroom in his boxers and Noodles t-shirt and scratched his belly with a yawn.

"Okay," he yawned again looking at the screen, sitting back down next to Anthony. He had to rub his eyes to read it clearly. "Looks good so far," he commented. "Needs more violence and crazy Smosh shit."

"Alright what do you think we should do now?" Anthony asked interested in what Ian had to say.

"Ummmm…" Ian droned in a zombie like state. "I dunno."

"Ian! Come on! You have to give me something to work with!"

"Okay, okay! How about weeeeeee…"

Anthony waited for Ian to finish his sentence.

"Weeeeeee what?"

He felt a soft head of hair land on his shoulder and sigh.

"Dammit Ian! Wake up!" Anthony yelled, pulling out from under him.

Ian fell forward then sat up straight, putting his hands on the bed.

"I'm awake! I'm awake!"

"Those energy drinks made you crash hard."

"Yeah," Ian agreed. "That was a stupid idea."

"It was your idea."

"Yeah…"

"So was this," Anthony added bitterly. Ian sharply turned to him.

"Okay, you know what? I'll finish writing the script! You go ahead and sleep for a while, okay?!"

Ian angrily turned the computer towards him and started typing.

"Ian, we need to write it together!" Anthony pulled at his arm but Ian pushed him back.

"I'm trying to be nice since I slept and give you a break!"

"Dude, stop. You're not even typing anything that makes sense!"

Anthony put his hand on the laptop and tried to take it back. Ian pulled it again with more force.

"Quit it, Anthony!" he growled.

God, he forgot how much of a pain in the ass he could be when he first wakes up.

Anthony tried to get to it again.

"Fucking stop, douche-wad!" Ian yelled again. He shoved Anthony hard.

Anthony fell off the bed onto the floor, hitting his foot on the edge of the table.

"Fuck! You fucking bitch! Look what you made me do!" He yelled out in anger, clutching his foot.

Ian peered over the side, alarmed.

"Holy shit! Are you okay?"

Anthony grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him onto the floor roughly.

"Ahh!" Ian cried out. "What the frickin'…!"

Anthony glared at him. "Why do you have to be so immature?!" He yelled.

"Well somebody has to be the funny one in Smosh because you obviously aren't!"

"At least I can act instead of just jump around like an idiot on screen and call it acting!"

Ian clenched his fists tightly. "I write most of the scripts, asshole!"

"Well then why can't you write this one?!"

"Because you're being a fucking 'tard!"

"You're the 'tard for putting it off until the last minute! God, you always do this! It's no wonder people like me better than you!"

"Oh, just 'cause a bunch of thirteen year old girls on the internet stalk your every move on Twitter suddenly you're the favorite?! You do realize it's 'cause of your stupid baby-face and dumb haircut that they even like you in the first place!"

"Oh and I suppose they like you more for different reasons?"

"Obviously because of I'm a better actor and writer!"

"You know Ian, I'm getting really sick and tired of your bullshit!"

"Well I'm getting sick of having to see your stupid ugly face every single day! I could've been a doctor or something!"

"Oh, that's a laugh. You, a doctor? You can barely take care of yourself let alone someone else!"

"Shut-up!" Ian pushed him again.

"No!" Anthony pushed harder.

Ian tried getting to his feet but Anthony grabbed him by the ankle and he tumbled down back onto the floor.

"Dick!" Ian screamed pulling his hair.

"Fucker!" Anthony screamed back, throwing him against the bottom side of the bed.

"Bitch!" Ian had him in a chokehold.

"I-gah! I fucking hate you, you sorry little piece of shit!" Anthony coughed out, trying to pull Ian's hands off his neck.

Ian suddenly realized what they were doing and his trembling hands let go of Anthony. His heart was racing wildly as the adrenalin surged through his gasping body. Feeling he let his emotions get the best of him his anger subsided and he looked down, ashamed. Anthony's scowl began to fade as he watched Ian's face flush in embarrassment and his breathing become faster.

"God, Ant. I'm…" Ian began. He felt tears welling up, preventing him from speaking further and became even more humiliated. He tried to turn his face and get up but then he felt a pair of arms wrap around him.

"Ian…"

Ian tried to hold back a sob. "Anthony, why am I such a fucking…"

"Ian…" Anthony interrupted. "Stop. It's okay," he cooed, rubbing his back. "We're both tired and not in our right minds…"

Ian held onto him tightly.

"Why did I have to wait till the last minute?" He sobbed. "God, I'm a fucking idiot."

Anthony pulled him closer. "No, you're not an idiot, Ian. You just need to focus more and not chug energy drinks down like you're king of the goddamn frat party chugging beer."

He felt Ian's head against his chest nod in agreement.

"Uh-huh," he whispered hoarsely, wiping his eyes as he pulled away from Anthony. "I don't get how you put up with all my bullshit, Ant. I'm sorry."

"You're my best friend, Ian. We've been through everything together twice without completely ripping each other's heads off. It's what friends do!"

Ian smiled and wiped away another tear from his bloodshot blue eyes.

"You're right, Anthony," he said looking into his brown eyes. "We can't let a stupid movie script tear us apart anymore!"

Anthony pulled away from him and smiled.

"Ready to knock this thing out like fucking champs?"

"Fuck yeah, I'm ready!"

* * *

Noon. The beginning signs of delirium were already noticeable. Anthony said he felt really dirty and went to take a shower, leaving Ian on the computer. He was able to write more and now that the energy drinks and the feeling of waking up had worn off, he was completely focused on typing. Anthony came out of the shower, drying off his hair.

"Get much done?"

"A bit."

He walked over and looked at the screen. "How much do we actually have?" He asked unduly curious.

"Let's see. We have about…" Ian skimmed through each page, looking at the word count. I'd say about an hour's worth of material.

"Dude, we need more. Think of the editing process. Those Hollywood guys'll cut whatever they think isn't good enough, which could be most of what we've written so far. It doesn't matter what we think of it, they wanna make a movie that'll rake in the cash."

Ian knew he was right.

"This is so hard!" he whined, falling over on the bed.

"That's what your mom said." Anthony lazily shot back, but even Ian saw how tired he was as he flopped onto the other bed.

"Or… someone… said that…" he murmured into the pillow.

"_Ann-thuh-neee!_" Ian whined, grabbing and shaking him with hardly any force.

"Mmmmmmmmm?"

"Why can't writing take less time than this?" Ian complained, lying next to him.

Anthony mumbled something into the pillow.

"Huh?"

Anthony turned his head to him "You're whining. Pussy."

Ian slammed a pillow against his back.

"Dude!" Anthony grabbed the pillow and snuggled against it.

"Oh no! Don't you fall asleep on me, Anthony Padilla!"

Ian tackled him, hopping onto his back and tried to pull him up as Anthony grunted in protest.

"Anthony!" Ian was lying on his back above him. "Anthony, get up!"

"Nnnnnoooo…" he murmured, unwilling to move, even with Ian's dead weight on his back.

"Fine. If you get to sleep," Ian yawned next to his ear. "…So do I."

Ian knew he was just joking but then he actually started falling asleep, lying on top of Anthony.

Anthony was breathing lightly, unaware Ian was even on top of him and drifting off.

Before they knew it they were both fast asleep.

* * *

Anthony was the first to wake up to a dark hotel room, groaning. He felt something warm wrapping itself around him and felt hot breathing on his neck where a head was nuzzled. He felt a little disoriented and wondered where he was and who he was wrapping his arms around when the soft hair that tickled his chin moved up and their faces aligned, only a centimeter apart from each other.

He immediately recognized the stubble and the scruffy hair in the shadows and remembered, gasping and pulling away slightly.

Ian was still sleeping. The initial shock of waking up wrapped in his male best friend's arms subsided as his warm breaths on Anthony's face became almost a welcome change from the cold stifling air of the room.

Anthony didn't move, fearing Ian would wake up, but more importantly because that would mean an immediate loss of some very pleasant body heat he was becoming rather attached to at the moment.

He knew he probably shouldn't be doing this but he figured no one was around and Ian most likely wouldn't remember any of it if he slipped out of the bed before he woke up.

His thoughts about finishing the script were replaced with intrigue over the way Ian exhaled and how his face fell into a natural set of frown lines, making Anthony wonder if he spent more time frowning than smiling.

He could feel Ian's heart beating as their chests were pressed together on the bed and he made a daring move as their limbs were tangled together to pull him closer without trying to wake him.

Unfortunately Ian began to stretch out and yawn and Anthony immediately pulled away as though their bodies were never touching.

"Oh, man," Ian yawned hugely. "How long was I asleep?" He sat up and stretched out his arms, looking over at Anthony.

"Uh," Anthony mumbled, scratching the top of his head. "I dunno. It's night time though."

"It's night? Shit!" Ian exclaimed hurrying back to his bed and looking at the laptop.

"It's nine o'clock!" he cried out in worry. "Fuck!" Ian's eyes darted all over the screen as he went over the words. "We have to finish right now!" He frantically began typing faster than Anthony had ever seen anyone type on such a short deadline.

Anthony got up and looked over to the screen, watching his progress and providing input and moral support. He had to admit when Ian wanted to he could excel further than anyone could ever think he could, and Anthony admired that about him.

They spent the next few hours tirelessly getting their script done and another room serviced meal and a few more hours of pacing and drinking Mt. Dew's later (Anthony banned Ian from drinking Red Bull) they were finally satisfied with the script.

* * *

"6:38 in the morning and we are officially done!" Ian sighed. Anthony held out his hand and high-fived him.

"I fucking knew we could do it, man!" Anthony grinned, finally shutting the burning hot laptop after having it on for so long. "What do you think? It's perfect, right? And we fucking did it all in one night!"

"'Cause we're firetruckin' ballers, bitch!" Ian smirked holding out his arms. "Ain't no one messin' with A-Dizzle and the I-Dog!"

Anthony laughed at Ian's ridiculous pose and stood up to stretch.

"Hrrrgfuck!" he groaned at the feel of his stiff muscles. "So what do you wanna do now?"

Ian suddenly came up from the mini fridge holding some tiny alcohol bottles. "Now, we celebrate!"

They didn't try to get drunk. They just drank enough to slip into a warm comfortable buzzed feeling. Anthony laughed and Ian glanced up at him. Both were sitting on Ian's bed enjoying each other's company.

"What a night!" Anthony sighed with a smile.

"You said it," Ian agreed.

"For a minute there I thought we were gonna rip each other apart!" Anthony laughed.

"Yeah, and I thought I was gonna die of a caffeine overdose!" They both chuckled comfortable with the conversation.

"And when I woke up with your arms wrapped around me I actually thought we fucked each other in some weird delirious state!" Anthony laughed.

Ian laughed too but then immediately froze.

"Wait," he slowly asked, confused. "_What_?"

Anthony realized he said that out loud and blushed.

"I-uh n-nothing!" He nervously grinned.

Then Ian thought back to when Anthony came out of the shower and remembered how he fell asleep on top of him.

"Oh shit, I practically dry-humped you, didn't I?!"

Anthony awkwardly did a half-smile and shrugged.

They turned and looked at each other.

Then both burst out laughing.

"Oh my god_, what the fuck_!" Ian laughed out loud clutching his side and rolling on the bed.

"I know!" Anthony laughed harder. "That's so fucked-up!"

They both laughed until their sides hurt and Anthony practically had tears in his eyes.

"Wait…" Ian finally managed to say after his laughter trickled down and his lungs started to hurt. He put his hand on Anthony's shoulder. "Why is it fucked-up if we sleep together?"

"Uh, I dunno. It just is."

"Admit it, you liked it," Ian smiled deviously, now gliding his fingers across Anthony's arm. Ian looked up at him and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "You know, those scruffy little hairs on your arm are such a turn on." Then Anthony knew he was doing his fake gay thing and shoved him playfully.

"Get off, fag!" he grinned.

"What did you just tell me to do?!"

"Sick! I didn't mean it that way!"

Ian got up and laughed some more.

"I can tell how straight you are by how well you handle my homo teasing!" He mused cryptically then walked into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

_What the fuck does that mean?!_ Anthony thought. "Suuuure you can!" Anthony called out, going along with the joke. He saw a fist pop out of the doorway and a middle finger shot up and he chuckled.

"You're only gonna get two hours of sleep, so why bother going to bed?" Anthony asked. "And besides, I thought you were all rested up from using me as your own personal mattress!"

He heard Ian mumble something as he brushed his teeth and spit into the sink.

"Huh?"

"I said you're more comfortable than my bed at home. Squishier too!" Ian came out of the bathroom and jumped into bed, pulling the covers over him. "Night, dude!"

Anthony on the other hand decided Ian needed to really know how it felt like to be at the butt end of a gay joke, so he crawled into bed with him.

He felt Ian tense up slightly but then try to turn it back on him.

"Oh? Getting lonely without me already?" He asked with a grin.

"Just thought you wanted to sleep on your favorite mattress," Anthony winked. He felt Ian stiffen up uncomfortably then huff.

"Anthony, gay doesn't suit you. Get outta my bed." Ian turned his back to him. Anthony smirked. His plan was working. He started rubbing Ian's back soothingly and relished in the shudder it brought him.

"Come on, baby! Don't be like that! Give daddy some lovin'!"

"Anthony…!" Ian growled pretending to sound mad, but Anthony knew there was a hint of a smile on his face. "I'm serious. Go away."

"I can't stand rejection!" Anthony pouted, tickled that Ian finally knew how it felt to be on the teased side. He decided he'd done enough to Ian so he started to get out of his bed.

_"A-Anthony…_?" Ian suddenly whimpered, completely catching Anthony off guard as he was leaving.

"W-what?" he asked turning to his friend. Ian had a dejected look on his face and his bottom lip quivered. Anthony almost felt bad for messing him, but then-

***WAP!***

Ian hit him in the face with a pillow.

"Goodnight, bitch~!" he sang.

* * *

The meeting went better than expected, despite Anthony zoning off a bit from a lack of sleep. Ian seemed to transcribe pretty well how they wanted the movie to play out, and Anthony discussed how they could work with their budget and how using their own film crew would save them time and money. By the end everyone seemed pleased with how well it turned out and they shook hands and left, both boys feeling the overwhelming sense of excitement surging through them.

"Dude! We totally nailed it!"

"I can't believe we actually pulled it off!" Ian smiled widely. He pulled Anthony in for a bro hug.

"Yeah, man! This is so fucking awesome!"

They both laughed and talked as they made their way back to the hotel on the company provided shuttle.

"Seems we actually did something right for once without screwing it up," Anthony laughed.

"Man, we have to make an episode outta this when we get home!" Ian insisted.

"Definitely," Anthony agreed. "Wait, make an episode out of the hotel thing, or the meeting?"

"Both! Why not?" Ian shrugged.

"Because of the overwhelming amounts of sexual tension between us may be too much for people to handle!" Anthony smirked.

"Or maybe, it wouldn't be enough…" Ian grinned.

Anthony rolled his eyes and smiled.


End file.
